Apologies
by Stealth Dragon
Summary: Sometimes apologies need to be said, even when there's no reason for them. A Conversion tag, because I felt like it.


**Apologies**

By

Stealth Dragon

Rating – K+

Disclaimer – I do not own Stargate Atlantis, but I do own...! Oh wait, don't own that either. But I do own... some stuff!

Synopsis – Finally saw Conversion, wanted to do a tag, so did a tag. I initially wasn't going to post this on FF, and instead put it up on my LJ page, but I've been wanting to post _something_ since it's been a while, and this is all I have done. Sometimes apologies need to be said, even when they're not necessary.

SGA

Elizabeth kept her hands clenched in front of her to avoid trying to twist her fingers off. She stood just outside the curtains walling off Colonel Sheppard's little niche of the infirmary, and just watched him as he slept curled on his side, a flesh colored human hand covering the blue, bruised healing hand. It was a deep, peaceful sleep not medically induced for once that made Sheppard look young, innocent, and vulnerable.

Not a guy with the strength to pin her by the throat against the wall. Never that kind of guy, but association was playing mind-games with her. Sheppard's face invoked no memories or emotions from that moment, but that one still-mutated hand was giving her plenty of reason to hesitate. It wasn't fair, not to John. He'd warned her not to stick around, knew what he was gradually becoming capable of, and had lashed out verbally to save her life.

She felt like she'd given up on him. The first mission had failed, which left only two choices – try again, or kill Sheppard, and she couldn't bring herself to do either. She'd refused to let him go on that mission, and what happened? He went on the second anyways. By and large, he'd pretty much saved himself, and Elizabeth couldn't help wondering that if she'd just let him go sooner... So much would have been avoided.

She owed him an apology.

" He should be wakin' soon."

Elizabeth flinched and whipped her head around to Carson standing just behind her shoulder. Carson flashed her a sheepish smile.

" Sorry love. Didn't mean to be stealthy on ya." He lifted his chin, jerking it toward John. " As I said, he should be wakin' soon barrin' I don't end up wakin' him myself first. I'd like ta get him eatin' somethin' other than what comes out of a feedin' tube."

Elizabeth perked at this and smiled. She hadn't noticed the tube's absence, not with Sheppard's face partially hidden behind his arms. Her attention had been focused on him sleeping, his pale complexion, sunken and bruised looking eyes, and the still-mutated hand. " He can handle solids?"

" Well, I've not had him eat anythin' solid yet. I was goin' to try him on some soup with a bit of toast on the side, see how he takes it. I honestly didn't know his reverse transformation would be this slow. I did, however, know it wouldn't be kind on his system. It's suckin' the energy right out of him and I'd liked ta get him eatin' high-protein and high-calorie foods to stem off as much weight-loss as possible." Carson sighed heavily. " Which won't be easy. I tried takin' the feeding tube out sooner, but the Colonel's appetite had been so poorly he nearly regurgitated the small cup of broth I gave him. But with the treatment closer toward completion, my hope is that his appetite might be a little more forth coming."

Elizabeth nodded her understanding. Sheppard's muscle tone was still present but he was a lot more gaunt looking than what felt comfortable. John was as fit as any soldier, but was so tall and stretched that at first glance it was hard to realize this. So when it came to any situation – whether an injury or just stress – that had Sheppard losing weight, it didn't take long for his ribs to become vividly visible pressing against his shirt.

" S'pose there's no time like the present," Carson said. He moved around Elizabeth to Sheppard's bed, and laid a hand on the Colonel's shoulder for a gentle shake.

" Colonel Sheppard, lad. Time Ta get up now."

At first the only movement was from Carson's careful shaking. But it didn't take long until Sheppard pulled in a deep breath. His eyes fluttered open and immediately after blinked through the haze of sleep and dream residue. He turned his head and a line formed in his brow as he regarded Carson.

" Hey doc," he said, arching his back slightly in a small stretch and pulling another deep breath. " What time is it?"

" Time for you to wake up," Carson said as he broke out his stethoscope placing the listening end down John's shirt front. He listened for a few moments before speaking. " Feel up to tacklin' a bit of soup Colonel?"

John rolled onto his back to allow Carson easier access to his chest. " Not really hungry," he muttered, " but it couldn't hurt to try."

Carson removed the stethoscope and looked down on Sheppard, giving him a wry grin. " Speak for yourself lad. You weren't the one needin' ta change his shoes when your last meal disagreed with ya. I'll have someone fetch ya a tray. In the meantime, ya have a visitor."

Elizabeth stiffened when Sheppard's languid eyes rolled to land on her. Carson raised the head of the bed, and by taking Sheppard beneath the armpits, helped him to sit a little more upright. Elizabeth caught the slight wince of pain screwing up John's features.

The Codeine moment was over. As the retrovirus had pushed the change pumping John full of natural painkillers that left him feeling on top of the world and freaked because of it, the reverse was doing the opposite. The majority of discomfort was muted by the mess of pain-killers soaked into John's system, but the fact remained that there was still pain involved. Elizabeth had unfortunately walked into the infirmary during a pain-filled moment that had John's whimpers and groans the dominant sounds of the infirmary.

When John was comfortably upright and Carson had had a peek at the mutated hand and remnants of scales on his shoulder and along his collarbone, the highland doctor moved to leave.

" I'll let you two at it," he said, and slipped by Elizabeth.

Elizabeth watched him go for a moment, then turned back to John. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he raised his human hand in a small wave.

" Hey."

Elizabeth smiled back. " Hey yourself. How're you feeling? And I mean honestly."

Sheppard blinked lazily. " Floaty. Not in a good way. I like being lucid."

" Who doesn't?" she said. She moved into Sheppard's little corner and sat on the edge of his bed next to the end of the guardrail. " You look good."

John snorted. " Bull. Feel like crap, so must look like crap."

Elizabeth shrugged. " Compared to what you looked like before." She bit her lip, wondering if she'd gone to far, but Sheppard looked genuinely amused so she plowed on. " Right now, pale human flesh is a Monet painting compared to scales and cat-eyes."

A crooked, drunken smile graced John's features. " Heeey... Have you been practicing your beside manner?"

" Why? Did what I say work?"

John lolled his head from side to side. " Not really. But I appreciate it a lot more."

" It's the effort that counts, right?"

" Exactly."

Elizabeth huffed out a sharp breath that was a small, quiet laugh. She reached out to swat John's foot, and instead ended up clasping his ankle. Then her eyes took on a life of their own straying to the scaly hand lying dormant by Sheppard's side. She stared at that hand with its blue fingers that had wrapped around her neck lightning fast and without compunction. She shuddered, thought it to be a small shiver, and was proved wrong when John moved the sluggish limb to slip it out of sight beneath the blankets.

" You know," he said conversationally, " I uh..." he lifted his human hand that trembled slightly to scratch the side of his head, then dropped it back to his side with a thump. " I've been starting to remember some things... Not a whole lot. Kind of like dreams so I'm not sure what was real. Some things had to be dreams... At least I hope they were. Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth pulled her eyes from the spot the mutated hand had occupied to meet Sheppard's gaze – a very worried, uncertain, and frightened gaze.

" Did I hurt you?"

Elizabeth swallowed and opened her mouth with the unconscious intent of saying no. It would have been so easy to lie. There'd been no real damage, just a small bruise that had faded quickly. But there had been pain, and terror despite her resolve. Her hand nearly strayed to her throat, so she clenched it, pushing it into the mattress.

Too late. Her silence said what she wouldn't.

Sheppard seemed to shrink as though collapsing in on himself. " That wasn't a dream, was it?"

The opportunity to lie had passed, and a knot tightened in Elizabeth's throat. " No John," she replied thickly, then quickly added, " But it wasn't your fault. That hadn't been you and you'd warned me that you were becoming dangerous..."

John's eyes slowly drifted down to the blanket. Had he more energy, he would have been fiddling with the topmost blanket hem. " I'm sorry."

Elizabeth's trepidation burned under the heat of anger and sorrow. She clenched her jaw, and her fist until the nails dug into her palm. " No," she growled, and flinched at the hard edge to her voice. She began shaking her head. " Don't you dare... It wasn't you, John. It wasn't you, so you have nothing to apologize for."

The muscles in John's neck corded when he swallowed. " I know," he said in a voice small and cracked. He looked away from the blanket and off to the side, unable to look at her, or perhaps thinking back. " Remember how I told you, after Beckett had scanned me, about how I could feel the change, and wasn't freaked out by it? Just freaked out about not being freaked out?"

Elizabeth nodded but kept quiet. Sheppard shrank even smaller as though trying to vanish into the bed.

" Everything's kind of the opposite now. I'm changing back, I'm alive, and it's like the freak-out I was supposed to have finally caught up with me or something. I'm remembering things, and not just things I did, but things I felt. It's... It's kind of a pain in the ass to describe. It's like I was in someone – something – else's head, just going along for the ride, watching through a movie screen. There were moments that felt good, like whenever I was running, or using super strength, stuff like that. But I knew it was wrong. I just couldn't... I couldn't think straight enough to do anything about it. I was tired, in my own freakin' head..."

John's eyes began to shimmer, flooding so rapidly he was trying not to blink and break the dam. But the moisture overflowed and a single tear rolled down the side of his face. " I – I couldn't do it. I – I tried, but I was so tired. Oh, gosh, Elizabeth, I was giving up..." his breath stuttered on an inhale, and he sniffed. He was shaking, Elizabeth could see it in his shoulders, and a chunk of ice formed in her chest where the anger had been burning moments ago.

Elizabeth could have kicked herself. The whole reason she came was to apologize to Sheppard. Yes, it had upset her that John had seen the need to be the one to apologize. But that was the thing about guilt, and good-hearted people. John Sheppard having no control over his actions as he was mutating was cold hard fact, but the warm blooded human that was him could never, and would never, see it that way. John was a soldier who protected with a cause, so for him to hurt without a cause, to be the bad guy, the monster... gosh, it wasn't simply eating him up inside, it must be ripping him to shreds.

Elizabeth's grandmother had once told her that when one had a need to apologize – whether a wrong existed or not – then it was best to just let that apology have its way. Guilt bred demons that needed to be purged, with or without reason.

John looked practically breakable in his remorse, brittle enough to shatter to dust should the right amount of pressure be applied, and utterly lost. And still he fought to rein it in, to uphold control against the surging tide of horrors filling his brain as his memory righted itself.

He was failing, and Elizabeth feared that if he did, then he really would shatter to dust. John may have been the strongest man she knew, but he was still human. He still formed cracks in the shell that was his composure.

Elizabeth leaned forward taking John by both shoulders and pulling him to her in a light and careful embrace. It was a little awkward, and she wasn't surprised to feel John stiffen just as she stiffened. Expedition leader and military leader – hugging, with the military leader shedding tears that dripped onto her shoulder to soak into her shirt.

_Oh what would people say?_ She almost laughed out loud thinking that. Yet the awkwardness was minimum, and after a moment drifted away. Hugging Atlantis' military leader was strange, hugging John Sheppard was not. And until he was back on duty, John was not Lt. Colonel Sheppard, he was just John Sheppard – a human reacting as humans do, needing what humans needed, and feeling positively human in her embrace. The solidity of scales and exoskeleton was gone. Elizabeth felt only the solidity of muscle and bone beneath cloth and warm skin as her right hand moved up and down over his spine, and her left pressed very carefully into his ribcage discernible beneath her fingers and palm

John's breath stuttered in silent sobbing. She could feel his pounding heart tapping against her chest, and his trembling extend muscle deep. John may have been the strongest person she had ever met, but that didn't take away his right to be terrified. So she said nothing as he mumbled apologies muffled by her shirt and his choked voice.

" I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I tried, it was just so hard, I'm so sorry..."

" It's all right, John," she quietly stated. " It's all right. We know you did, we know you tried. And I want to say we forgive you but... There's nothing to forgive. You don't need to be sorry John. I'm the one who needs to apologize. I'm the one who gave up. I'm the one... I'm the one who couldn't except our options. Kill you or try again... I couldn't chose, I couldn't do either..."

Which had left her with the third alternative of keeping him in a cage, watching the shell of John rage like a wild beast with nothing left of John to save, and the thought was just as sickening as the thought of having to kill him.

Elizabeth felt a slight, unsteady weight on her shoulder, and it took her a moment to realize it was John's hand. " S'not your fault. Rock 'n a hard place, and I put you there."

Elizabeth did laugh, softly and a little hysterically. " You know what? This isn't going to get us anywhere. How about... I'll except your apology if you except mine. Deal?"

There was a moment of silence, then, " 'Kay."

The hitching breaths had stopped, and the trembling subsided a fraction. Elizabeth leaned forward lowering John back against the pillows. John sank into them, exhausted and red-eyed, but generally placid. He wiped the remaining moisture from his face, took a deep, cleansing breath, and let it out slowly. Elizabeth reached out to take his human hand, then veered to pull his mutated hand from beneath the blankets and hold it. The blue skin was dry, rather leathery, but warm where as it had been cold when wrapped around her neck. It trembled slightly, so she pressed her hand over it until it stilled.

" You going to be all right?" she asked.

" Yeah," John said with a small, wistful smile. " There's two ways something like this can go. I can either let it build me up with experience, or break me down. I survived being sucked on by an iratus bug barring the nice little phobia I developed..."

" With good reason," Elizabeth added.

John nodded. " Yeah. So I can survive almost turning into one. No mental breakdowns today. I chose to learn from the experience."

" And what have you learned?"

John grinned. " That I really, really hate bugs. But it was still nice to be able to outrun Ronon. Rest assured, however, that that'll be the only aspect of being a mutant I'll miss."

Elizabeth chuckled and patted John's leathery hand. A minute later Beckett stepped in carrying a tray with a bowl of chicken noodle and a plate with two slices of toast. Elizabeth set John's hand back on the bed then rose stepping back to allow Beckett through. Beckett set the tray on the Colonel's lap and followed up by pulling up stool to sit beside him.

" All right then, Colonel. Let's give this a go. Got a bit of somethin'," he lifted a small syringe, " just in case your meal decides to make a reappearance."

John picked up the spoon in his slightly unsteady hand. He leaned forward, dipping the spoon in, then bringing it the short distance to his mouth. He swallowed, waited a moment, then shrugged. " So far so good." He went for another bite, then another. Carson clasped him on the shoulder blade.

" Things are lookin' up," he said.

Elizabeth smiled. " They certainly are."

The End

A/N: I know there's been like a ton of Conversion tags. I really wrote this for myself as the angst opportunity was too much to forgo. And you all know how much I love that angst. But because there's so many conversion tags, I was iffy about putting it on FF. net. Don't ask me why. I knew I'd end up posting it eventually. I was just having a weird day, I suppose. Hope you enjoyed.


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